


so darling hold my hand

by bex_xo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BUT I LOVE THEM, Basically everyone is Canadian, Ellaria Sand equals Ellaria Sable because French-Canadian, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Ice Dancing AU, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Pod and Arya are both messes here tbh, SanSan has a baby, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, and also are the cutest hockey couple ever, athletes au, author is a yankee just a warning, based off everyone's favorite platonic canadian ice dancers, explicit hand holding, slow burn? more like medium burn, this is the most self indulgent thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14084511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo
Summary: In seconds she finds herself pulled tightly to her partners chest, familiar arms wrapped around her as she takes a big, shuddering breath.“We got this,” is all Pod says before he presses a quick kiss to the crown of her head.Later, when they stand together on the top of the podium, their gold medals securely around their necks, they practically scream the national anthem with the entirety of the Pacific Coliseum. Pod has hardly let her hand go and neither of them can stop smiling. Somewhere up in the stands their parents both sit, likely with each other, and her siblings as well, and she knows for certain their moms are in tears.In their post ceremony interview with CTV, she finds that she can’t stop staring at her partner and that she can’t wipe the stupid smile off her face. Her hand is still wrapped firmly in Pod’s, and honestly, she doesn’t even mind one bit when this is possibly the happiest she’s ever been and it’s all because of him.





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [junojelli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/junojelli/gifts).



> about a week ago junojelli asked me if I thought I could write a Podrya AU based off of Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir. Well, as we all know, I am trash for both these things so I quickly became obsessed with the prompt. The careers of most of the characters involved are based off very real people, and some minor elements of their personal lives as well, but really for the most part I'm really just stealing their careers for my own needs. Chapter One is really a build up chapter for the rest of the fic, a lot of background information that's needed going forward. If you're here from the SanSan tag, expect to see much more of them starting in chapter two :)

_Darling, hold my hand Oh, won't you hold my hand?_  
_Cause I don't wanna walk on my own_  
_Anymore won't you understand?_  
_Cause I don't wanna walk alone_  
_I'm ready for this, there's no denying_  
_I'm ready for this, you stop me falling_  
_I'm ready for this, I need you all in_  
_I'm ready for this, so darling hold my hand_ **\- Jess Glynne  
  
1997 Kitchener Ontario**  
  
“Do I have to hold his hand?” seven year old Arya Stark asks her mother from the middle row seat of the family minivan.  
  
“Of course you do. It’s ice dancing,” her older sister Sansa says as she looks up from the math worksheet she’s trying to finish before they pull into the rink.  
  
Sansa is ten years old and nearing on 5 feet tall and after careful consideration she’s making the switch from singles skating to hockey, something she would rather not do, but if she’s as tall as the family pediatrician predicts she will be, she has no future as a figure skater.  
  
Arya wishes their mom would allow _her_ to play hockey, just like Robb, but no, she’s _much too small and delicate for that._  
  
If that growth spurt that Sansa got at her age would just hurry up, that would be great.  
  
“Podrick is a very nice boy Arya. This is just a try out anyway, of course we’d love to find you a partner, but if not you can always go back to singles skating,” her mom tells her from up front, her bright blue eyes catch Arya in the middle row seat.  
  
“I could take up hockey.”  
  
Her mom sighs from the front and Arya catches Sansa’s snicker before her sister slips her earphones up from where they hang around her neck and presses the play button on her Walkman, the opening cords of _MMMbop_ play before Catelyn clears her throat in the drivers seat.  
  
“Arya, we talked about this. Even in the pee wee league, you’re much too small right now to play ice hockey, even with the girls your age. The situation with Sansa isn’t ideal for any of us, but she’s already struggling with elements that were second nature to her a year ago and she’s no where near done growing. She knows she won’t find success as a singles skater but didn’t want to give up being on the ice, so hockey was her only option,” her mom reminds her with a pointed look from the review.  
  
“Yeah but, what about when I hit my growth spurt? Can I play hockey then?”  
  
Her mom pulls into the nearly empty parking lot of the rink they are meeting the Paynes at today and finds a parking spot before she turns around and gives Arya a small smile.  
  
“We’ll see.”  
  
Arya sighs loudly as she unbuckles her seat belt and grabs her rink bag from where it sits on the back seat. Sansa throws her homework into her bookbag before grabbing her own skates, _hockey skates_ , and the two sisters follow closely behind their mother as the walk into the rink for Arya’s try out.  
  
On the ice already is a tall, skinny dark haired boy who is lazily skating in a figure eight pattern, and Arya realizes that must be Podrick Payne, the boy her mom wants her to partner with, since the only other person on the ice is a blonde woman who seems to be talking to him about something.  
  
“Go lace up your skates dear, I’m going to go introduce myself to the Payne’s and then we’ll meet Podrick alright?” her mom says with a pat on her cheek as she hurries off down the steps and over to a nice looking dark haired couple who are waving at them.  
  
“C’mon, I’ll go with you,” Sansa tells her as she points towards the girls dressing rooms sign.  
  
Ten minutes later the Stark sisters find themselves standing near the boards of the rink where their mother is busy chatting away with the Paynes. Catelyn pauses to introduce her daughters and Mr. and Mrs. Payne seem absolutely thrilled to finally be meeting Arya, the little singles skater who is interested in making the switch to ice dance.  
  
Podrick’s last partner, a girl named Wylla, moved to Vancouver three months ago for her mom’s job and they hadn’t found anyone who was a good fit yet. Arya was the fifth girl to have a try out and they were hopeful this was going to work out.  
  
The blonde woman on the ice, Podrick’s coach and aunt, Brienne, skates over to the boards and introduces herself before she asks Arya to join them on the ice.  
  
“We’ll be right here dear. You’ll do fine,” her mom reassures her as she walks her over to the gate and takes her blade guards from her.  
  
“Yeah, just don’t embarrass yourself or anything,” Sansa says as Catelyn drags her back to the benches to sit with the Paynes.  
  
Arya sticks her tongue out at her sister while skating backwards towards center ice, and when she turns around she notices the boy, Podrick, is grinning at her with quite possibly the biggest smile she’s ever seen on someone before.  
  
“Hi,” She says shyly while she holds her hands behind her back, overcome with sudden embarrassment at being caught doing that to Sansa.  
  
“Hi,” Podrick says back, just as shyly, but quite possibly even more so judging on how red his face is.  
  
“Podrick, this is Arya Stark. She’s been skating singles but has a real interest in ice dancing,” the blonde woman says.  
  
_No, I don’t_ is was what Arya thinks.  
  
“Arya, this is my nephew Podrick. We’ve been searching for a while for a new partner for him, and were thrilled when we heard the youngest Stark girl was interested in giving this a go,” she says as her nephews face only grows redder by the second.  
  
“Podrick, if you could show Arya a standard hold position and we’ll get to work on seeing how well you two skate together, that would be lovely.”  
  
Podrick skates a few steps closer to her, the redness on his face suddenly leaves as he takes on an all business approach as he stops right in her personal space and reaches for her hand.  
  
She snatches it away.  
  
The slightly older boy huffs a sigh of annoyance.  
  
“I’m not going to bite or anything. I just have to uh, hold your hand like this,” he mumbles as he clasps their hands together tightly.  
  
“And then I’ll place my uh, other hand on your waist, and you’ll put your, your other hand on my shoulder, just like we’re dancing,” he explains as he sets them up in a hold position and while he’s not _that tall_ he kinda towers over Arya.  
  
“How old are you?” she asks a moment later as Podrick starts leading them slowly around the ice.  
  
“I’m nine. I’ve been ice dancing since I was six. Wylla was a fun partner but she had to move. My parents said I could switch to singles if I wanted, but I like this better. How old are you?”  
  
“I’m seven, but I’ll be eight in May. I wanted to play hockey, but my mom said no,” she explains with a small sigh as they complete their first lap of the rink.  
  
“Well I think you’ll like this sport a lot better. You’re like, _really tiny_ , and eventually I’ll be able to lift you and stuff and that’s always cool to watch the older couples do,” Podrick says with a reassuring nod as he skates them back to where his Aunt Brienne waits in the middle of the ice.  
  
“How did that feel kids? It looked great for it being the first time Arya has done this,” Brienne tells them when they let go of their hold.  
  
The two look at each other and share a smile before they turn back and nod in agreement with Brienne.  
  
“Great then! Let’s try some other things and then we’ll go talk to your parents alright?”  
  
Arya finds herself naturally falling back into the same hold position she was just in, and she guesses that if she’s going to have to hold a boy’s hand, she could do worse than Podrick Payne.  
  
**2010 Vancouver**  
  
“Holy shit, I’m gonna puke,” Podrick says beside her as he runs his free hand through his hair, his other hand clasped tightly around hers as they walk together down the back hall of the Pacific Coliseum.  
  
“Don’t be a baby Pod,” she laughs as she hip checks her longtime ice dance partner into one of the many black curtain partitions that line the halls.  
  
“You do realize this is the final night of our event A? And that we’re less than three points ahead of Jeyne and Jon?”  
  
Arya rolls her eyes at her ever-dramatic partner.  
  
“Of course, I do, you can’t stop telling me. But we have something Jeyne and Jon don’t,” she tells him with confident smile.  
  
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Pod questions, one eyebrow raised in an arch as they reach the land warm up area where the other top teams are preparing for their Free Dance as well.  
  
“We have all of Canada behind us,” she tells him as she gestures to one of the many screens that is playing the live feed of the competition that is getting ready to begin.  
  
She’s right of course, the camera scans the audience and it’s nothing but a sea of red and white. Large maple leaf flags are being waved and she catches several signs with their names on it.  
  
They are kind of a big deal here in Canada, the favorites to win gold despite their second place finish at the Grand Prix finals to Jeyne and Jon several weeks ago, especially if they pull off the same huge number in their Free Dance tonight as they did at Canadian Nationals a few weeks ago.  
  
Winning their first Olympic gold on home ice in their games debut would be pretty cool too.  
  
Podrick just laughs as he heads over to where Jeyne and Jon are to start stretching, and as always Arya finds herself trotting closely behind him, just like she has since she was seven years old.  
  
Their training partners slash best friends slash fierce rivals, Jeyne Poole and Jon Snow from the USA, give them waves from across the gym area as they continue their stretching routine, the same one Arya and Pod will do once they shed their official Team Canada jackets. Others may question their friendship, or say it’s all for show, but Jeyne and Jon have been nothing but honest to goodness great friends to them since they moved to Canton, Michigan in 2003.

Melisandre Podzhigatel and Stannis Baratheon run The Artic Edge Ice Arena in Canton, and are world class coaches in Ice Dance, so the move to Michigan as teenagers made sense. Jeyne and Jon and their families have always been more than welcoming in the last seven years, despite their competitive rivalry. They aren’t the only teams that study under them that are here, so chances are they are off with another pair of their Olympic skaters for the time being, either giving last minute advice and waiting for scores, since neither coach seems to be around.  
  
“Hey!” Jeyne greets them with a hug and a cheek kiss, just like always, just like today isn’t the biggest day in both their careers thus far.  
  
Jon waves from where he sits on the floor and honestly he looks a little green.  
  
Arya greets them back before she shoves the ear buds from her iPod into her ears and turns on her favorite _Let’s Get Pumped_ playlist. Okay, so it’s a playlist Podrick created, but they are good songs and they do get her pumped up before a competition. Today her shuffle starts with _Good Girls Go Bad_ by Cobra Starship and there’s a 99% chance she will be humming this up until their Free Dance music starts.  
  
The couples spend the next 45 minutes staying loose and stretched out before the girls decide they should probably get their costumes on and touch up their hair and make-up. Margaery Hightower, another one of the skaters they train with, and Jon’s girlfriend, gets off of the stationary bike she’s been riding and heads to the dressing areas with them to get ready as well.  
  
It’s Margaery’s second Olympics, and four years ago, she and her partner Renly Baratheon won the silver medal for the US. It was a _big deal_ and Arya had been genuinely excited for her friend, even if her and Pod had been relegated to alternates for Team Canada and spent the whole two weeks of the Olympics hiding out in the Starks winter cabin with no small amount of bitterness.  
  
Winning gold in their Olympic debut in their home country was going to be so much better than not having a chance at a medal in Italy.  
  
The white dress she was wearing for their Free Dance was one her mother and sister had helped her pick. Her mother had told her it made her look innocent and pure, while Sansa constantly referred to it as her ingenue dress. Her brother in law, NHL Star Sandor Clegane, just constantly reminded her it was a water only costume in his thick accent.  
  
“Can someone zip this please? I could just go ask Pod, but his hands keep shaking and I’d rather not end up with blood on this thing,” Arya asks her two friends after she slips the dress over her head.  
  
Margaery happily makes sure she’s secured before giving each of them a quick kiss on the cheek and heading back to where her partner is. Arya is absolutely certain Margie is going to squeeze in a minor lip lock with Jon as well, if the tube of lipstick she sees her stuff into the pocket of her zip-up indicates anything.  
  
“It doesn’t bother you?” she turns and asks Jeyne as the two of them make last minute adjustments.  
  
“What, Jon and Margie? No. Jon is practically my brother anyway, so our relationship is way different. I mean, you know how it is, you and Podrick have been partners for just as long as we have,” Jeyne replies with one last swipe of her own lipstick.  
  
“Uh yeah, sure, I know what you mean,” Arya tells Jeyne as the two head back towards the warm up area, the transition from friend to competitor sets in as soon as she makes eye contact with Pod.  
  
Except Arya doesn’t know what Jeyne means. She has three brothers, she knows what it’s like to have a sibling relationship, and what she has with Pod is different than that. It’s comforting and reliable and she trusts him more than anyone else, but she would never describe them as brother and sister.  
  
“You okay A?” Podrick asks twenty minutes before they are supposed to take the ice after she has balked on a lift for the second time.  
  
“Just. Nerves.”  
  
_And also the startling realization that you are not my brother is all_ , she keeps that part to herself though.  
  
In seconds she finds herself pulled tightly to her partners chest, familiar arms wrapped around her as she takes a big, shuddering breath.  
  
“We got this,” is all Pod says before he presses a quick kiss to the crown of her head.  
  
Later, when they stand together on the top of the podium, their gold medals securely around their necks, they practically scream the national anthem with the entirety of the Pacific Coliseum. Pod has hardly let her hand go and neither of them can stop smiling. Somewhere up in the stands their parents both sit, likely with each other, and her siblings as well, and she knows for certain their moms are in tears.  
  
In their post ceremony interview with CTV, she finds that she can’t stop staring at her partner and that she can’t wipe the stupid smile off her face. Her hand is still wrapped firmly in Pod’s, and honestly, she doesn’t even mind one bit when this is possibly the happiest she’s ever been and it’s all because of him.  
  
**2014 Sochi**  
  
To say the last few years have had their ups and downs would be an understatement, but at least life has been interesting right?  
  
That’s what Podrick tells himself anyway when he starts to think too much about the future.  
  
The last seventeen years he’s only known two things; Ice Dance and Arya Stark.  
  
And after tonight, this could be it for both.  
  
They haven’t talked much about it, other than to agree that they needed some serious time off after these games, win or lose, and to agree that the real talk would come after they got back to Canada.  
  
The 2009-2010 season had been a dream come true for the two of them, winning their first Olympic gold followed closely by their first World Championship title was more than either of them had ever expected to achieve at twenty and twenty-two years old.  
  
So of course, everything went to absolute shit in the next few months.  
  
Arya had been dealing with more health issues than they ever admitted to the press in the lead up to the games, and she soldiered through it for them to compete on home ice. Podrick had never been prouder of Arya than he was night they won in Vancouver, when they finally got back to their rooms in the Olympic village and she finally owned up to the extreme amount of pain she had been skating in all week and sobbed on his shoulder about how she never wanted to let him down.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” she cries as he sits there with her legs in his lap and gold medals forgotten on the bed.  
  
“No, no don’t be sorry A. We’ll get you checked out as soon as we get back home,” he insists as her runs a soothing hand up and down her back.  
  
“After Worlds Pod, we got to win Worlds first,” she sighs into his neck where she buries her face.  
  
“Whatever you want A,” and he knows then that he’ll happily do what she wants for the rest of forever.  
  
They spent more time in doctor’s offices than on the ice after their win at the World Championships that season. By October of that year, Arya had decided that surgery for her chronic exertional compartment syndrome was going to be the best option and Podrick spent several grueling hours in the waiting room with Ned and Catelyn while they waited to be told they could go back to her room. The instant relief that flooded him when he saw her sitting up in her bed awake when they walked in the room was better than the feeling that any gold medal could give him.  
  
“Cheer up Pod, we’re gonna skate again,” she whispers when he tears up after telling her he’s glad she’s going to be okay.  
  
“Just not for a couple of months,” her dad reminds them to their disappointment.  
  
That was the end of their dream of completing a Four-Peat at National Championships.  
  
He couldn’t help but think it played a lot into loosing the World title to Jeyne and Jon that season as well, but in truth they just weren’t as well prepared as they would have been and there was really nothing they could have done about it. Arya’s health was their top priority  
  
Over the next few seasons they went back and forth and up and down with Jeyne and Jon, neither of them really having an edge over the other but living for the thrill of the competition between them regardless.  
  
And tonight, was possibly the last big one they would face off in.  
  
“Where are you?” Arya says to him as she waves her hand in his face, probably for the second or third time knowing them.  
  
“Uh,” he starts before he purses his lips and cocks his head to the side to look at her full on. “Sorry A. I’m stuck in my own head right now. What were you saying?”  
  
Arya’s smile lights up across her face and he can’t help but return one to her.  
  
“I was saying that we’ve reached the venue and you need to get out of the car,” his partner states in her no nonsense manner, practically pushes him out of the car that drove them to the Iceberg Skating Palace.  
  
“Oh. Oh yeah. Sorry,” he mumbles as he reaches for the door handle and the bookbag at his feet.  
  
On instinct he grabs both their wardrobe bags from where they hang on the hook in the backseat and throws them over his shoulder after he shrugs his bookbag onto his shoulders. Arya slides her glove covered hand into his as they walk to security, their athlete badges examined by security personnel as they are waved through.  
  
Once inside they pause to start peeling off layers, gloves and hats get shoved into their book bags and Podrick takes time to put in his ear buds and selects a playlist called _We Got This_ that Arya made at the beginning of the season. _Can’t Hold Us_ by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis drowns out all the noise that surrounds them as his partners tiny hand finds his again and they head off down the hall.  
  
If he thought he was going to puke four years ago, then today he must be on the verge of passing out, because as soon as he and Arya are done stretching she’s pulling him up and out of the main warm up area and wraps her arms around his middle. He doesn’t even have to think about returning her hug, his arms act on their own accord as they find the spot around her that feels sort of like coming home and breathes in her floral scent.  
  
“You okay there Pod?” Aryas muffled voice comes from somewhere down below where his chin rests on the top of her head.  
  
“Yeah, I promise I’m good A. Just feeling a little sentimental today,” He answers with a lazy grin when she looks up at him.  
  
Arya sighs and closes her eyes as she rests her head against his chest.  
  
“We just need a break Pod, a season or two away to relax and refocus. I want another Olympics as much as you do, trust me, but another four years would burn us out before we got to Pyeongchang.”  
  
“I know. The last few seasons haven’t been easy on us, we’re both exhausted, mentally and physically. I just don’t want to let you down,” he admits for probably the first time ever.  
  
“You could never let me down. It’s literally not possible. And it’s not like this is the last time we’re ever skating on Olympic ice anyway you know, I can guarantee it,” she points out, voice so full of confidence it actually takes Podrick back momentarily.  
  
Ever since she started dealing with her health issues, she’s been less confident in the longevity of their careers. He would gladly lace up his skates every day for the rest of his life if it meant getting to spend time with Arya.  
  
This is not the time to start thinking too much about these thoughts that have been plaguing him these past few months, so instead of saying anything that could be taken in any other way, he cracks a joke like any normal twenty-six year old guy would.  
  
“You’re right,” he laughs, “we do have the Gala skate here at the end of the week.”  
  
Arya pulls out of his embrace to smack him on the chest and all he can do is laugh at her even harder.  
  
She smacks him again.  
  
“Hey there, calm down killer. I’m joking,” he explains as he throws his hands up in a defensive position.  
  
“It’s not funny Podrick,” Arya whines as she turns heel to storm off down the hall, but Podrick grabs her wrist before she takes more than step away from him and drags her back into his chest.  
  
 Somehow, he’s not entirely sure really, they end up with both her hands resting on his chest and his arms low on her back, and she’s looking up at him with bright eyes and her lower lip between her teeth.    
  
This has happened an increasingly absurd amount of times over the past year and he has yet to figure out a way to not immediately go scarlet when it does.  
  
Or how to get rid of the traitorous thought of just how much he’d like to know how her lips would feel between _his_ teeth.  
  
“I uh, I just. I don’t want this to be the end you know? You’ve kinda been my entire life these past seventeen years,” he says _much_ lower than intended, the look Arya is giving him effecting his brain.  
  
“I know. You’ve been my entire life too,” she whispers, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the strings of his Team Canada hoodie.  
  
She looks up at him from beneath her lashes and he’s pretty sure he’s not even breathing anymore. Arya rocks up on her toes then at the same time he starts to lean down towards her, eyes fluttering shut as they brush noses.  
  
The sound of Melisandre calling for them breaks whatever spell it is that they are under, the two of them leap apart as if the other has physically burned them, and mumble their apologies sheepishly as they head back to the warm up area.  
  
It's going to be a long night.  
  
The night does not end in their favor, though he couldn’t be prouder of the skate they preformed tonight, it just wasn’t enough or what they needed to top the podium.  
  
It's a tough position to be in, being disappointed for your own results while simultaneously feeling excitement for your friends, even if they were the ones that beat you. It’s bittersweet, knowing the glory of a gold medal while settling for a silver, forcing a smile and being strong for the _both_ of them, since Arya looks like she’s going to fall to pieces as soon as they get away from the cameras, her fingers laced tightly with his as they do their victory lap.  
  
That’s the exact moment that he _knows,_ without a single doubt in his mind, that they will be back for Pyeongchang in 2018.  
  
**2015 Michigan**  
  
Parting ways with Melisandre had been the obvious choice after Sochi, they had learned what they could from her and if they wanted to return at the very top of their game, she was not the coach that was going to take them there. Leaving Michigan, their friends and lives they had made there was surprisingly harder than they originally thought it would be. Being home in Canada with his family had made it easier, of course, but he found it a little unnerving that he wasn’t completely comfortable being in one place for such a long stretch.    
  
That’s why he nearly jumped at a chance of heading down to Michigan again, of all places, to be at the wedding of two of his dearest friends the moment Jon called and asked if he would be in the wedding. Sure, it was undoubtedly going to be awkward as all get out, considering that he would most definitely run into Melisandre there, but it was the best excuse he had to see Arya in a long time.  
  
This was the longest period they had gone without being in one another’s physical presence since the first time they met, and it was causing Podrick some internal anguish. He tried to not pay too much attention to the media, but when your own mom asks you if you’ve met your partners new boyfriend, when you didn’t even know about said boyfriend, it will obviously bring up some unwanted and long avoided feelings.  
  
He did not, in fact, meet this Jaqen guy that Arya was seeing, nor did he really want to, and he suspects she didn’t want him to, considering she never brought him up when they talked on FaceTime.  
  
“We’re so glad you’re here!” the blushing bride, Margie, tells him at the cocktail reception the night before the actual wedding.  
  
“I wouldn’t have missed it, even if it means making awkward small talk with Mel at some point,” he tells her with a small hug and kiss to the cheek.  
  
“Jon’s around here somewhere, so is Jeyne. Where is your better half?” the blonde inquires with her signature smirk.  
  
“Uh. Arya and I didn’t uh, come together, if that’s what your asking. She has a boyfriend, apparently,” he says in what he hopes is a nonplussed tone.  
  
“Jaqen? That’s been over for a while now you know. How long has it been since you’ve seen each other in person?”  
  
_126 days, but who’s counting? Oh right, I am_ he thinks before giving Margie a careless shrug.  
  
“Oh uh, I don’t know, a few months. Not a big deal,” he insists with a casual manner as he catches Jon’s eye from across the room and the other man makes his way over to them.  
  
“What’s not a big deal?” Jon asks after he greets his fiancée with a quick kiss.  
  
“Podrick and Arya haven’t seen each other in months,” Margie explains as she wraps herself around her soon to be husband.  
  
“You’re making this out to be something it’s uh, really not. Arya and I are perfectly capable of functioning as normal human beings without the other.”  
  
“You do realize you’re like 90% of her impulse control, right? Honestly, I wouldn’t be too shocked if she shows up with a shaved head and nose ring,” Jon tells him in his understated way of saying just about everything.  
  
Podrick is fully aware that he’s probably right.  
  
“Well it looks like we’re going to find out sooner rather than later, since she just texted me to tell me that she’ll be here in roughly five minutes,” Margaery tells them as she looks up from the phone in her hand.  
  
Podrick feels his heart start to race and runs a hand subconsciously through his hair, all while Jon and Margie appraise him with knowing looks.  
  
“A bit anxious there man?” Jon, smirk firmly on his face while Margie wears one that matches.  
  
Podrick just glares at them before he grabs a drink off a caterer’s tray and stalks towards the front door. He can hear his two friends laughs as he reaches the entry way just in time for the door to come swinging open to reveal none other than Arya Stark.  
  
With blue green hair and a stud in her nose.  
  
At least its not a shaved head.  
  
Her eyes light up immediately as she rushes towards him, arms raised to draw him into a hug.  
  
“Podrick! I’m so excited to see you!” she squeals at him, completely disregarding the look of utter shock on his face as she wraps herself around him.  
  
It takes him a moment to return her hug, his brain momentarily short circuiting at the press of her body against his again after all these months, but when he does finally react, he pulls her tight and lifts her cleanly off the ground, breathing her in as he does it.  
  
It's been 126 days and she smells exactly the same.  
  
“I missed you,” he whispers into her ear before he sets her back onto her feet.  
  
“I missed you too,” she says with a grin before grabbing his hand like no time has passed at all and leading them back towards their friends.  
  
The wedding is a beautiful event. He couldn’t be any more honored to stand up with someone while they pledge their lives to each other as he is when he’s watching Jon and Margie become husband and wife. Unsurprisingly, Jeyne cries more than both the bride and groom as she stands there with her bridesmaid dress on, wiping her tears away with a tissue Margie’s mom had handed her discreetly at the start of the ceremony.    
  
Arya is seated on the groom’s side, three rows back and with several other friends of theirs from the skating community. He feels her eyes on him the entire time and when he looks out over the crowd and makes eye contact with her, she tosses him a teasing wink and he knows for certain he’s gone a shade of dark red that she is bound bring up later.  
  
“What was that all about up there?” she asks after toasts are made and while Jon and Margie are dancing an impeccably choreographed first dance.  
  
He attempts to play cool.  
  
“What do you mean?” he says as he loosens his tie with one hand and throws his other arm around the back of the chair Arya occupies.  
  
“You know what I mean,” she says with a single poke to his ribs that he reflexively tries to dodge.  
  
He just shrugs his shoulders and takes a drink from his second glass of bourbon that sits in front of him.  
  
“I winked at you and you turned into a cherry tomato up there. Since when have I had that kind of effect on you?”  
  
“Oh I don’t know, since you were seven I suppose. Your ability to make me blush is well documented you know. Like, all of Canada is in on it really,” he tells her with a knowing look.  
  
“Yeah but, this was different. This was me actually flirting with you,” she says in a small voice, her eyes focusing on the glass of wine she holds in her hand.  
  
He actually freezes in place, drink halfway to his mouth in one hand and fingers tracing a pattern on her bare shoulder with the other.  
  
He must sit there longer than he realizes, because he feels her stiffen up underneath his fingers and she tries to shake his arm off.  
  
“Will you say something please? I hate when you do this silent thing,” she mumbles, panic laced into her words.  
  
It snaps him out of his reverie.  
  
“Fuck Arya. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise is all,” he tells her as he pulls his arm from the back of her chair and makes to stand up, offering his hand to her as he goes to head out of the tented area that the reception is being held in.  
  
He leads her towards the wooded area behind the tents, further away from where a group of people are smoking cigarettes. The sun has set and there are fairy lights hanging everywhere and it’s far more romantic out here than he really wants it to be considering the conversation they are about to have.  
  
“What’s going on A? Flirting with me?” he says with a deep sigh as he runs a hand through his hair.  
  
If she wasn’t fresh off a break up, his reaction would probably be a 360 from this quite frankly. If they are going to do this, _finally_ , it’s not going to be a rebound or a fling, because that would make things messy and what they have together is far more precious than throwing it away for quick sex.  
  
“I don’t know okay? I’ve missed you, a lot, and it’s been weird recently. And it’s not like there’s no precedence for feelings between us,” she says as she steps into his space and presses a perfectly manicured hand to his chest.  
  
“If you’re talking about Sochi, I thought we agreed that we were just caught up in the moment, yeah? Come on A, you know we can’t do this, not if we’re going to return to competing with each other,” he says softly as he brings a hand up to cover the one on his chest.  
  
She doesn’t say anything at all, just steps even more into his space and reaches her free hand up to place it against his cheek before she leans up on her tip toes and presses her lips against his.  
  
It’s chaste, hardly a real kiss, but he’s had too much bourbon and she feels too good pressed against him, so he wraps his free arm around her waist to drag her fully into him as he kisses her back. It’s slow and sweet the way she sighs contently against his lips and he uses that moment to sweep his tongue into her mouth to taste her.  
  
She pulls back moments later, her bottom lip caught between his teeth for a fraction of a second before he settles her back on the ground.  
  
“That should have never happened,” he groans as she buries her head against his chest.  
  
“I know. I just needed to get it out of my system,” she says before she detangles herself from him and makes to head back to the reception.  
  
He follows her back into the tent and knows they have been caught by the shared looks Jon, Margie and Jeyne give them. He grabs them both drinks before they head out to the dance floor to join their friends in continuing celebrating their marriage and to attempt to forget about everything that just happened outside of the tent until a later time when his head was clearer.  
  
Tonight they would just have some fun before life got serious again.  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
[Virtue/Moir 2010 Vancouver Free Dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZG1cbrQtbQ)  
  
[Virtue/Moir 2014 Sochi Free Dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqM6-Fh-o-0&t=125s)  
  
[Chronic Extertional Compartment Syndrome](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compartment_syndrome) (Warning: The picture on this wikipedia link is graphic!!!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to my beta, jillypups, for fine toothing this several times this week. Also to my Noodle Sisters for dealing with me while I obsessed in the group chat, and the darling sunbeamsandmoonrays helping me figure out a lot of the headcanons!
> 
> Arya's health issues are in fact ones that Tessa Virtue dealt with, so it only seemed fitting to put that in this fic since she's the inspiration here.
> 
> Sansa being a hockey player was inspired by sarahcakes, and she and her Hungarian born, Sweden-raised NHL star husband Sandor Clegane will have a bigger role in the next chapter. I can't wait for you all to really get to meet them!
> 
> Margaery is a Hightower only because I need to use Loras later on as a different character in this fic and they can't be siblings.
> 
> Renly is not Stannis's brother, but instead he's his nephew, but I doubt we're seeing either one of them again.
> 
> I'm ignoring a LOT of canon here with this friends, especially when it comes to actual ages of characters, since I really just need certain characters to fit different roles, so we're playing fast and loose here for sure. TBH, I'm ignoring a lot of real life too, while this is heavily inspired by real life people, these are fictional characters and I'm not making speculations or accusations about the inner workings of these peoples lives, just writing some feel good fic inspired by their amazing on ice chemistry and skills. TL;DR: I'm not here for gossip folks!


	2. ii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next few days are more of the same, the B2Ten team starts their tracking process, which is more complicated than either one of them thought it would be, and they get into a routine in both the gym and on the ice fairly quick.
> 
> Ellaria might be the one that is the brains behind this operation, but Oberyn is the task master. Never in his years of skating has he ever had someone be so precise about every minute detail of his skating, correcting his edges and posture and balance in every single simple skating drill they complete. Oberyn doesn’t even have them dancing to music yet, just shows them the step sequence he would like to see and makes them drill it over and over again until it’s perfect.
> 
> Or well, until Podrick gets it perfect, because as usual Arya does everything right the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with more SanSan! :)

**2015 Stars On Ice  
  
** Stars on Ice had always been a high light of their year. Exclusively touring Canada with their fellow athletes had been some of the most _fun_ they had ever got to have since becoming a top caliber international team, and this year was no different.  
  
At least that’s what Podrick had expected when he showed up for their first official rehearsal, until he was told he and Arya would be skating to a song called _Good Kisser_ and that they wanted them to play up everything the title suggested.  
  
He really thought he was doing a good job not making it obvious, that one short week ago he had probably the best kiss of his life with Arya, until Bronn Blackwater called him on it after one particularly frustrating moment in rehearsal that ended with the pair agreeing they needed to step away and come back before they murdered each other.   
  
“So uh, when did you and the girl lock lips?” his friend and sometimes mentor asks in a hushed voice near were they stand near the board.  
  
Podrick feels his face flushing and really hopes he can just pass it off as being over exerted. He hasn’t skated this much since they finished touring last year, not competing meant less time on the ice doing actual ice dancing and more time on the ice playing the occasional game pick up hockey. Sure, they had done their fair share of exhibition shows last year, but nothing after Christmas thanks to their busy schedules. Or well, Arya’s busy schedule, since she was really the face of this operation.  
  
“I have no idea what you mean,” he proclaims as he takes a swig from his water bottle, eyes glancing up at Bronn who just leans ever-so-casually against the boards.  
  
The older man laughs.  
  
“Bullshit. I’ve watched you two dance around each other for the last five years, I know somethings happened Payne,” he says in a low voice, eyes dart between where Podrick is and across the rink where Arya is talking to Shireen Baratheon, Canada’s Ice Princess.  
  
“Well, considering that we’re professional ice dancers, people have been watching us dance around each other for years Bronn,” Podrick attempts to joke, but it only gets him a smack to the back of the head.  
  
“Listen kid, you can tell me now, or I can go over and ask your lady love alright? You’re call,” the older man says with a satisfied grin on his face.  
  
“Alright, alright, Jesus Christ no need to make threats old man,” Podrick says with his hands thrown up defensively before leaning closer to Bronn. “It was about a week ago. We were in Michigan for Jon and Margie’s wedding. It was a onetime thing, fueled by too much alcohol and too much time apart, not bound to repeat itself.”  
  
Bronn gives him an appraising look.  
  
“Lemme learn you something kid. Ain’t no thing as a onetime thing. Not when it comes to things like kissing your partner anyway. That’s why I stuck to solo skating during my career, the ladies throw themselves at you still, but you have no partner to get jealous of the attention, so you can get away with kissing far more girls than normal.”  
  
Podrick gives him a once over and catches the glint of the golden band on his left hand.  
  
“What does your wife have to say about all of that?”  
  
“How do you suppose I met my wife Payne?” Bronn questions with a knowing look and a laugh. “Listen kid, the two of you haven’t been able to take your eyes off the other the whole time we’ve been here. Even now she keeps glancing over here while talking to Shireen. So uh, just be smart alright?”  
  
The older man skates off towards the other side of the rink to talk to their chorographer as Arya slowly makes her way over towards him, coming to a stop a few feet away from where he still leans against the boards.  
  
Her hair is different than the last time he saw her, the blue-green tint has been replaced by the dark chocolate brown she normally wears it, a perfect match to his own dark hair. It’s longer too, and he knows enough to see Catelyn and Sansa all over it.  
  
“How did your mom convince you to fix your hair?”  
  
Arya full on grins.  
  
“I’ll have you know, I did this all by myself,” she says as she skates a foot closer to him, closing in the distance before rolling her eyes. “Okay, well, not entirely I guess. I decided on the color, and the length, and let Sansa pick the salon in Toronto as a sister-bonding-experience before I came out on the road. She’s pretty convinced the next time I see her she’ll be KTFU.”  
  
“They are really trying now huh? Good for them, they have been so busy with their careers since the moment they got married, they deserve this.”  
  
“Yeah well, Sandor’s entering his last year of his contract in the fall and if she does get preggers, he’s not planning on signing an extension. She’s already told the national team and her professional team that they are actively pursuing this, and she can’t promise she will be playing next season. I’m pretty excited to potentially be Aunt Arya though,” she says with a small smile as she scoots herself all the closer to him and looks up at him through those long lashes of hers.  
  
“What would that make me?” he asks in a soft voice as he gives her a half grin and raises a single eyebrow.  
  
He takes notice of the pretty shade of pink she turns before she clears her throat and leans up closer towards him.  
  
“Uncle Podrick, of course,” she whispers before pulling away, eyebrows raised in a challenge as a laugh escapes her throat and she takes off down the ice. **  
  
** He chases her down before she even gets halfway down the rink and grabs her around the waist to swing her around as if she weighs nothing, while the rest of the cast hoots and hollers at them from the sidelines.  
  
  
  
The best, and worst, part of tour life is the busses the cast crams on at the end of the night before heading off to a new city. They give the cast plenty of time to hang out as a group, and really the SOI cast always ends the tour feeling like a little family, even though it means some of them will be getting ready to compete against each other soon. The busses aren’t exactly the most comfortable things, and offer little to no privacy, but after a long night of skating Podrick finds that he can sleep just about anywhere, including a cramped bunk with a too firm mattress, just as long as he has those fancy noise cancelling head phones on that Arya bought him for his birthday a few years back.  
  
Which is why he wakes with a start when he feels an elbow in his ribs near the end of the tour, after they have flown to the west coast and traded one set of busses out for another.  
  
As he rubs out the sleep in his eyes, he turns to his utter lack of surprise and finds Arya curled up next to him, one arm resting under her head and the other wrapped tightly around herself. He leans over her to close his privacy curtain and lays back down and mimics her position.  
  
“What’s up kid?” he asks around a yawn as he blinks at her with tired eyes.  
  
His phone reads 5am, which isn’t a time he’s never seen before, but is definitely one he hasn’t seen in a hot minute.  
  
“I woke up from a weird dream and decided to check my email on a whim. You will _never_ believe who emailed us,” his partner says with a tone of excitement that she can hardly contain.  
  
“Her Majesty the Queen?” he asks dully, eyes already struggling to stay open.  
  
“It would be an _honor_ and we’re not worthy,” Arya chides him with a whack to his shoulder.  
  
“I’ve only been hearing this for literal years A. Who emailed us?”  
  
“Ellaria and Oberyn. They have heard through the grapevine that the dynamic ice dance duo of Stark/Payne are looking to mount a comeback and wanted to know if we have a new team lined up yet.”  
  
At Arya’s first words Podrick’s eyes pop back open, suddenly very interested in what she’s talking about.  
  
Ellaria Sable and Oberyn Martell had been completing their farewell season the first year that they skated on the international senior level. They were their competitors true, but also their friends and mentors and had helped them so much that first season out, Podrick knew both he and Arya would be forever grateful to them. Now they were very successful coaches, one of their current teams being the newly crown world champions from France, Daenerys Targaryen and Daario Naharis.  
  
“Oh yeah? They’re over in Quebec, right?”  
  
“Montreal, yeah. I didn’t respond back, because obviously we would have a lot to talk about before deciding, but I couldn’t fall back to sleep after seeing it and figured I would come and wake you up as well,” she tells him as she pulls the comforter she’s laying on out from under herself and burrowing underneath it.  
  
She brushes her ice-cold toes across his leg and he nearly yelps in shock.  
  
“Jesus woman, you could wear socks to bed,” he mutters mostly to himself, Arya’s eyes already fluttering close.  
  
“But then you couldn’t warm my toes for me Pod,” she murmurs as she pulls their shared blanket tighter around herself.  
  
“Thought you couldn’t sleep?” he asks in a whisper as her breathing starts to even out.  
  
“Me too.”  
  
He will steadfastly ignore all of Bronn’s pointed looks when they wake up in a few hours again, he thinks to himself as he pulls the sleeping girl beside him towards his chest and feels his own eyes grow heavy as he nods back off.  
**  
  
2015 Toronto**

****

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me for Montreal,” a very pregnant Sansa whines about a week and a half before Christmas.

The last few months had been busy with the Stars on Ice tour and Arya and Podrick had been constantly fielding the questions about their potential return to the competitive arena ever since. They had an answer, one they were very excited to be able to officially announce, but Skate Canada was making a very big deal about it and asked them to not announce anything until after the Canadian National Championships this season.  
  
From a perspective she guesses she understands _why_ , no one wants to compete under the pressure of knowing that Stark/Payne would be returning next season but having it all out in the open would also make moving across the country a little less complicated.

“We’re going on the _Road to the Olympics_ press show in mid February to announce our return,” she sighs as she picks at her nail beds, a bad habit she’s developed over the last couple years since she got sick. It was a nervous tick, something she would do while in waiting rooms to keep her hands busy when she waited for her name to be called.  
  
It drove her mom nuts.

“So that’s why this move has been all hush hush? You think if people know you two are in Montreal that they will connect the dots eh?”  
  
“Ellaria and Oberyn aren’t the only coaches in Montreal San, but they are the best. And we agreed if we were going to do this again, it was only going to be with the best. We’re doing this for us this time, no distractions,” she finds herself saying automatically.  
  
Going forward, that was the plan. This comeback wasn’t about anyone but the two of them, and no distractions really meant no distractions. It had been a while since she had a boyfriend, Jaqen to be exact, and Podrick had always had a string of semi-serious relationships over the years, but they agreed that they could put their love lives on hold for two years to complete their goal, reclaiming the Olympic Ice Dance title.  
  
It didn’t hurt that the only man she was currently remotely interested in was the one she was making that agreement with either.  
  
“There are perfectly good coaches here in Toronto sis, you wouldn’t be so far away from your new niece or nephew,” Sansa says, rubbing her belly fondly.

“We looked here, and while the coaches are great, it’s not what we wanted. Ellaria and Oberyn took on that French team, Targaryen and Naharis, last season San. Brought them all the way from a seventh-place finisher to World Champions. While it’s great to work with people that have a proven track record in their ability to coach high caliber teams, we’re not interested in being pawns for some game of favorites again, and we know we’re not going to get that there,” Arya tells her sister as she flops herself on to the massive couch that takes up most of Sansa’s living room.

The benefit of having an actual giant as your brother-in-law is that the furniture is always going to be well made and comfortable, not to mention absurdly huge.

Sansa looks at her with tear filled blue eyes and Arya tries very hard to not laugh at her, everything these days has her tearing up and Sandor says it’s even worse when no one else is around. Apparently, he’s taken to not watching basically anything on TV with her because she even cries at the commercials.

“I’m just so sorry for you guys, I know the last few years were really hard for you two between all your health issues and Mel’s head games. You guys deserve to find someone who will give you the same amount of dedication,” Sansa says as she pats Arya’s hand sympathetically.  
  
“You sound just like Pod.”  
  
“Yeah, well he’s a smart guy, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sansa says brightly as she pulls herself up and out of her spot on the couch and waddles towards her kitchen.  
  
Arya can’t stop the snort that slips out of her.  
  
“What’s so amusing about that sissy? You’re practically the queen of the _Podrick-Payne-can-do-no-wrong_ club. Admittedly, he _is_ typically a good egg, but you’ve been known to put him on a pedestal,” her sister tells her from where she’s standing in her kitchen, refrigerator door wide open as she is probably looking for a snack.  
  
Arya sits up from her spot on the couch and peers over the back of it towards her sister, before sighing in defeat and dragging herself off the couch and sitting down on one of the many barstools.  
  
“Remember when I went to Michigan in April for Jon and Margie’s wedding, and it was the first time I had seen Pod since Christmas? Like a month after I broke it off with Jaqen?”  
  
“Yeah, you had that ridiculous hair color that made mom physically cringe every time she saw you. I had to remind her that it was temporary and then you came home with that thing in your nose and I thought she might actually die.”  
  
“Yeah okay, whatever Sansa, at least I didn’t come home married like you did,” She says with an tone of sarcasm that causes her sister to simply flip her the bird instead of turning around to look at her from whatever she was digging around for in her fridge.  
  
“So,” she starts hesitantly, “At the wedding Pod was a groomsman, and he just looked so good in his tux, and I maybe, kinda sorta, very intentionally winked at him when he was up front, and he instantly went beet red, but like, it was different than normal. So later when I asked him about it, he brushed it off as nothing, and I don’t know, I was hurt a little I guess, because I may have told him I was flirting with him.”  
  
Sansa stands up from her fridge quicker than any pregnant woman should be able to, head cocked to the side and brows furrowed in confusion.  
  
“Were you? Were you actually _flirting_ with him?”  
  
“Uh, yeah,” she says with a shrug as she reaches into her sister’s fruit bowl and pulls a banana from the bunch.  
  
“Oh my god, Arya! This was months ago, why am I just hearing about it now?” Sansa asks as she walks around her counter to sit in the bar stool next to her.  
  
“He was freaked out, like completely. We went outside to talk in private, and I said some things, and he said some things, and we may have kissed against a tree.”  
  
Sansa lets out a shriek of pure joy and Arya just gives her a cringed look.  
  
“Was it good at least? I mean, I’ve heard things, but he’s just _Podrick_ to me so it’s always weird,” Sansa asks her with a waggle of her eyes brows.  
  
Arya goes about twenty-seven different shades of red in approximately fourteen seconds.  
  
“It was very satisfactory, thanks,” she mumbles in a small voice while avoiding all eye contact.  
  
“Okay, so what happened?”  
  
“We kissed, and it was one of the better kisses I’ve had, but then he’s all _this should have never happened,_ which he wasn’t wrong about and I agreed, and we’ve kinda just avoided talking about it. Like we were on tour for months and it never got brought up.”  
  
Sansa sits there in complete silence, and Arya can see the gears turning in her head before she grabs her phone from the counter.  
  
“What are you doing? Oh my god Sansa you better not be calling him, I swear to god, I don’t care if you’re pregnant, I will fight you for that phone,” Arya shouts as her sister gets up from her seat, phone pressed to her ear and starts pacing up and down the hall. Sansa holds out one finger, as to tell Arya to hold on a minute, before turning back around to continue her pacing.  
  
“Hey Margaery! Yeah, I’m doing great! No, the baby is not here yet, we still got nearly two months. Yeah, so I called to ask you something,” Sansa says into her phone and Arya just groans and throws her head into her crossed arms on the counter.  
  
“Oh, how funny! That’s exactly what I was calling about. Yeah, I can’t believe my sister just told me about it either. Okay, thank you so much for confirming this for me. I’ll be sure to keep you guys in the loop, give Jon our love, would you? Okay, okay, I’ll talk to you soon, bye!”  
  
If looks could kill, Arya would already be dead, because Sansa has been glaring daggers at her ever since she started talking on the phone.  
  
“Did you think I was lying? Why would I lie about that?”  
  
Sansa throws her hands up in the air in frustration, grumbles something about that sounds an awful lot like _how should I know_ before she returns to her stool.  
  
“I just wanted to double check is all. Sandor has been saying for months that something happened because you two have been extra weird, but I thought he was just seeing things. Now I owe him like, $20 and a blow job, so thanks for that,” her sister tells her with nudge to the shoulder.  
  
Arya furrows her brow's in disgust.  
  
“Ew,” she says with a shudder.  
  
“Oh, come on, obviously we have sex,” Sansa says as she gestures towards her baby belly.  
  
“Yeah, but I don’t need visuals alright?”  
  
That’s the moment when the front door to Sansa’s Toronto penthouse opens and her hulking brother-in-law fills up the door, hair wet from his post game shower and bright blue Leafs hoodie on. Sansa lets out a small squeal of delight at the sight of her husband and attempts to scrambled out of her bar stool to make her way over to kiss him, but Sandor gestures for her to sit back down as he turns to shut and lock the door.  
  
“Babe, you were right!” Sansa tells him as he nears closer to them, stoic as ever when he leans down to kiss his wife and rub a large hand across her belly.  
  
“I’m right about a lot of things. What is it this time?” He asks in his gravely voice as he pulls off the blue and white beanie he’s wearing and runs a hand through his long, dark hair.  
  
Sandor was born in Hungary, but at age four he moved to his mom’s native Sweden and lived there until he was eighteen and got drafted to the NHL. In the twenty years he’s lived in the US and Canada, his accent is nearly nonexistent, unless he’s worked up about something, which doesn’t happen often really. Vancouver was one of those times, between her and Pod’s win, his Swedish Men’s Ice hockey bronze and Sansa’s team winning gold, the Stark’s had a lot to celebrate and everyone was emotional.  
  
When they announced to their family and friends they were expecting their first child was another time, and when he informed everyone he was retiring at the end of the season to stay at home with the baby, so Sansa could return to her hockey team was another.  
  
Arya may have teared up at both of those events, but really it was because she had never seen someone look so excited at the thought of giving up their career, and part of her hoped that someone would look like that for her someday.  
  
“Podrick and Arya made out at Jon and Margie’s wedding,” her sister says in a nonchalant manner as she grins up at her husband.  
  
“We didn’t make out, it was one kiss,” Arya mumbles but knows it’s a lost cause.  
  
“You should date him. He’s a good guy, looks at you like I look at Sansa.”  
  
“In what world does Podrick look at me like that? He’s the one that was pretty insistent that it was a mistake,” Arya argues, but Sandor just chuckles and shakes his head at her.  
  
“When you’re not paying attention. Now go, please, long game tonight. Plus, your sister owes me something,” he says with a wink towards his wife and Arya makes a gagging noise as she picks up her car keys from the counter and grabs her coat from the wall hook.  
  
“You’re disgusting!” she sing-songs as she unlocks the deadbolt and pulls on her coat.  
  
“We’re married!” her sister sings back before shouting that she loves her and they will talk tomorrow.  
  
  
  
**2016 Montreal**  
  
Moving had been an easier experience than either of them had expected. Their apartments were in different buildings, but within walking distance of each other, and their families had made the drive to help get them all set up in this new city before heading back down to Ontario. All in all, it wasn’t half as gruesome as either expected, and they had managed to keep the news from the gossip blogs for the time being.  
  
They weren’t quite ready to start planning for the season yet, the ISU wouldn’t release the Short Dance technical requirements for a few more months yet and while they could definitely practice some elements, it wasn’t enough to really get into the grit of a competition program.  
  
Instead, Ellaria and Oberyn had come to them about the B2Ten program and how they hoped it would give them the competitive edge they were going to need.  
  
Podrick had agreed enthusiastically. He was no longer the young pup he was in Vancouver, twenty-two and bright eyed, having recently turned twenty-eight and knowing that the next two years were bound to be exhausting both mentally and physically.  
  
“Off ice preparation is just as important as practicing on the ice. Not just choreography, but physically and mentally we need to have you two ready. Ice dance has changed in the course of the last two years, and while you two haven’t exactly been sitting around, touring is different than competing,” Ellaria tells them the first morning at their new rink.    
  
“You two have become quite the performers, we know you can sell a show, we’ve seen it. But there are people out there that want to see you two fail at this comeback, and for that reason we need to give you every sort of edge we can,” her husband, Oberyn, comments from where he leans against the mirror of the gym.  
  
“We’re ready for this. Whatever you two want to throw at us, we can do it,” Arya says from her spot on the floor next to him, voice laced with determination as she looks between their new coaches.  
  
“I agree with A. I’m no spring chicken anymore, but we wouldn’t be doing this if we doubted our ability to top the podium in PyeongChang,” he agrees with a confident nod.  
  
“You’re not old Pod, quit acting like you’re on the verge of falling apart,” Arya nudges him with the toe of her Nikes.  
  
“Listen kid, I’m older than you and about all of our competition,” he replies with a shrug.  
  
“Need I remind you both that Oberyn and I were older than Podrick here when we retired?” Ellaria says with a glare before she bursts into laughter at the sight of their faces.  
  
“Sorry,” Podrick mumbles shamefacedly, hand running through his long hair.  
  
“No offense taken. We were successful, but our careers were never quite as illustrious as yours. Now how about you two get to work on stretching for the morning while we wait for the rest of the team to get here eh?” Oberyn says with an easy smile as he walks over to his wife and takes her hand to lead her towards the front of Gadbois to wait for the rest of the B2Ten team.  
  
Podrick takes his time climbing up from his spot on the floor, stretching his hands above his head before he reaches down to help Arya from where she’s still sitting on the floor. It’s instinct to pull her into a hug, their arms find their way around each other naturally as he rests his chin on her head.  
  
“Ready for this?” he asks into her hair that’s piled on the top of her head.  
  
“Of course, Pod, there’s no one I’d rather do this with,” her voice is muffled against his chest and she gives him a squeeze before she steps away and starts the same stretching routine they have been doing since they trained with Melisandre.  
  
The next few days are more of the same, the B2Ten team starts their tracking process, which is more complicated than either one of them thought it would be, and they get into a routine in both the gym and on the ice fairly quick.  
  
Ellaria might be the one that is the brains behind this operation, but Oberyn is the task master. Never in his years of skating has he ever had someone be so precise about every minute detail of his skating, correcting his edges and posture and balance in every single simple skating drill they complete. Oberyn doesn’t even have them dancing to music yet, just shows them the step sequence he would like to see and makes them drill it over and over again until it’s perfect.  
  
Or well, until Podrick gets it perfect, because as usual Arya does everything right the first time.  
  
“Let’s call it a day kids. We’re all worn out and could use a break. We’ll see you in the morning,” Ellaria announces in early February, about a month into their training.  
  
Podrick drops straight to ice in a dramatic fashion, Arya stands over him as she rolls her eyes and giggles.  
  
“I thought we would never be done. I swear A, I dream of Oberyn saying “ _From the top!_ ” in my sleep sometimes,” he tells her from where he lays on the ice and grins up at her.  
  
“Yeah well, you did kinda call him old that one time. Oberyn never forgets,” his partner says as she offers him a hand to help him off the ice.  
  
“Drive you home?” he offers as they make their way off the ice and grab their blade guards from where Ellaria left them on the boards.  
  
Arya’s shoulders sag in relief at the offer, her car was still back at her parents for the time being and she had been relying on Uber, public transportation and Podrick until her dad drove it up next week.  
  
“Yes please, thank you so much. I’d really like to just get home and take a hot bath and relax before I need to go to bed, so not having to sit around for an Uber sounds great,” she says with a smile as she heads off to the ladies’ locker room to grab her stuff.  
  
“I’ll meet you out here in five then?” he asks her retreating figure and she turns around to flash him a thumbs up before walking into the ladies room.  
  
“Does Arya know you’re in love with her?” Ellaria’s voice comes from behind him. It causes him to jump a little, and his face flushes red before he turns around to face his coach.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tries, but she fixes him with a look that makes his eyes drop to the floor.  
  
“I see everything Podrick. You look at her the same way my husband looks at me, in fact I’m surprised she doesn’t have it figured out herself. She looks at you the same way, you know,” the older woman supplies helpfully, a gleeful sparkle in her eyes.  
  
“It’s not the time for this Ellaria. We have goals, and I’m not going to let my feelings get in the way of those goals. After the Olympics, if these feelings still exist, we can broach the subject then. But for now, we have to put all our focus into skating,” he explains as best as he can and his coach just gives him a thoughtful nod and places a reassuring hand on his bicep.  
  
“I understand. Just be smart about this, alright?” she asks him with a simple nod, that he returns, before she heads back to her office.  
  
He rushes into the locker room and takes his skates off before shoving them in his bag and grabbing his keys and coat. Arya waits out near the front door, phone in hand and furiously typing away.  
  
“Is something going on?” he asks as he pulls his coat on next to her.  
  
Her eyebrows furrow even more deeply than before.  
  
“I don’t know. Sansa texted a while ago to tell me she’s been having contractions, but not close enough to be worried about it yet. She’s still two weeks from her due date though, so I’m a little anxious,” she tells him as they walk to his car.  
  
“Shit A. Do you need to go to Toronto? Ellaria and Oberyn would totally understand,” he says as he grabs her bag from her and throws them into the backseat of his car before opening her door for her.  
  
“I don’t know? No one has responded to my texts yet, so I’m not sure what’s going on. I did check the Leafs schedule though, Sandor is in Pittsburgh for a game tonight, so he’s not even home with her. Probably thought he had time,” she tells him as they buckle their seat belts before Podrick pulls out of the parking lot and eases his way into evening traffic.  
  
They get all the way to her apartment building before Arya’s phone rings with a call from her mother, the ever-poised Catelyn Stark in a bit of a panic as she speaks to her younger daughter.  
  
“She’s on her way to the hospital now? Who’s even with her?” Arya asks, voice raising with each word that comes out of it.  
  
Podrick doesn’t think he’s ever seen Arya this rattled and they have skated in multiple Grand Prix Finals, World Championships and Olympics together.  
  
“Yeah, yeah okay Mom. I’ll leave as soon as I can, I need to book a flight and pack a bag. Pod will take me to the airport, don’t worry. I gotta call my coaches, okay? I’ll see you in a few hours. Love you,” his partner says in her phone before clicking the end call button.  
  
“Sansa went into labor then?” Podrick asks as he reaches over across the center console to grab Arya’s free hand.  
  
“Yeah, her OBGYN want's her to go to the hospital. It could be quite a few hours yet, hopefully Sandor will have time to get there, Dad was on the phone with someone in management arranging a flight for him to get to Toronto ASAP. I need to go,” she tells him as she unbuckles her seat belt and rushes from the car.  
  
He’s right behind her all the way into her place, where she starts dumping out her bag and starts to refill it with the most basic of essentials.  
  
“I’ll call Ellaria and Oberyn and tell them what’s happening, and then I’ll call the airline. We need to stop by my place first, so I can grab some things, but we’ll be out of here as soon as we can be okay?” he tells her from where he stands in her living room.  
  
Arya stops running around her apartment very suddenly and turns around to him, head cocked to the side.  
  
“We?” she asks in a small voice.  
  
“Well yeah, I’m not letting you get on a flight in a panic by yourself kid. Plus, I’m going to be Uncle Podrick right?”  
  
She rushes at him so quickly that it takes every ounce of his athletic ability to not be knocked over.  
  
“Thank you so much Pod. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you. You know that right?” she asks from where she’s firmly wrapped around him.  
  
He runs a hand across her hair and squeezes her tight.  
  
“Yeah A, I love you too.”  
  
  
  
**2016 Toronto**  
  
Labor sucks. It’s literally the absolute worst thing she’s ever experienced, and she’ll be damned is she does this again.  
  
It’s what she yells at her husband during a particularly bad contraction fourteen hours into labor anyway.  
  
Smug bastard just laughs and tells her she’ll change her mind in a year or two.  
  
He’s probably right.  
  
Two additional hours later, the world welcomes its newest addition, a beautiful dark-haired girl named Eleyna Minisa Stark-Clegane.  
  
Sansa has never seen someone so perfect in her entire life and can’t stop the tears that flow so freely down her checks the first time she holds her daughter.  
  
Sandor, as big as he is, has managed to climb into her hospital bed with her, and the three of them lay there together for who really knows how long until they hear a knock on the door.  
  
“Come in,” she whisper-shouts, not wanting to wake the baby in her arms, hoping who ever it is heard her.  
  
Moments later the door opens to a very tired looking Arya, and surprising exactly no one, Podrick is behind her, his hands giving her shoulders a reassuring rub as the make their way over to the bed.  
  
“Hey sissy. Hi Sandor,” Arya says in a small voice as she nears the bed, her eyes already starting to fill with tears.  
  
Podrick just gives them a tired smile and a wave from where he stands behind Arya, his arm now wrapped around her sister’s waist as Arya leans back into him. They look as tired as she must, having driven from Montreal when they weren’t able to book a last-minute flight to Toronto last night.  
  
“Hi guys. I’m so glad you’re here,” she says from her spot on the bed while little Eleyna yawns and blinks up at them.  
  
“We would have never missed it,” Podrick speaks for the two of them as he presses his lips into the crown of Arya’s head before he gives her the smallest push forward.  
  
“Want to hold your niece?” her husband asks from where his head rests on her shoulder, his eyes never leaving their daughter.  
  
“God yes,” Arya laughs as a tear rolls down her face.  
  
Very carefully, Sansa hands her swaddled new born over to her sister, who lets a couple more tears fall as she holds her new niece for the first time.  
  
“Meet Eleyna Minisa Stark-Clegane guys,” she tells them with a proud smile as she nestles back into her husband’s arms.  
  
“Hi Eleyna. I’m Aunt Arya, and that guy over there is your uncle Podrick. We’re really excited to meet you today,” her sister whispers to the baby before she waves Podrick over closer.  
  
“Hey Eleyna, we may not be related but I sure am excited to be your uncle,” Podrick says from where he stands beside Arya.  
  
_Give it a few years_ , she can’t help but think when she sees the way to two of them interact with her daughter.  
  
“Do you want to hold her Podrick?” she asks lazily after a few moments; the pain killers have started to kick in and she wants to make sure she’s awake enough to see this herself.  
  
“May I? If that’s cool with you two?”  
  
Sandor rumbles a quiet laugh next to her.  
  
“You’re family, of course it’s okay,” he says, voice thick with sleep and Sansa can hear his accent peaking out.  
  
It’s adorable, not as adorable as that baby they made together, but pretty close.  
  
Arya transfer’s the sleeping baby into Podrick’s arms, and Sansa must suppress a squeal at the sight. Eleyna’s dark hair makes her look like she could be theirs, and it’s a visual she plans on tucking away for the future when these two work out their shit and finally get together.  
  
“Look at that. You’re a natural,” Sandor says with a self-satisfied grin.  
  
Neither Arya or Podrick say anything as they stand there cooing over the baby, but Sansa has been around them enough to know they are having a conversation through looks and touches alone. It’s so romantic it makes her want to scream at them, or vomit, but that might just be the meds she's on, just because they are unbelievably frustrating.  
  
After twenty minutes, they give the baby back to them, Sandor cradling their daughter to his large frame and Sansa tries to sit up the best she can to give them hugs and kisses before they make their way out of the room with promises to be back after they have gotten some sleep. Sandor tosses them a key to their penthouse and tell them they can crash there instead of finding a hotel, which causes the pair to give them their grateful thanks before they head over to the door.  
  
Sansa catches the kiss that Podrick presses to Arya’s forehead as he helps her with her coat, and bites back a gasp when she notices her sister returning it with a press of her lips to the underside of Podrick’s jaw briefly when he wraps an arm around her shoulder.  
  
“Do you think they aren’t telling us something?” she asks her nearly sleeping husband when the door closes.  
  
Sandor opens one eye from where he’s leaning back against the pillows.  
  
“No. I think they are just being stupid, but what’s new with that?”  
  
_Well, it’s hard to fight with that kind of logic,_ she thinks before she settles herself into the little love-nest she has with her husband and daughter.    
  
***  
  
[Virtue/Moir Good Kisser SOI 2015](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5rFOPQ-o60)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totes didn't mean for this to take so long to post, I've been dealing with a nasty stomach virus the past ten days that I honestly would rather have not dealt with at all. 
> 
> The chapter count has been extended already! When I was going through my outline I realized I had several chapters that probably needed separated into two, but really the projected count is just that. It could be more than that number, it could be less than that number, we'll see what happens as I get more into the story. 
> 
> Tell me what you think!


	3. iii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door behind her opens to reveal an equally tired looking Podrick, carrying a wardrobe bag and a coffee carrier with two drinks in it. He gives her an apologetic look, his full brows creep their way up his forehead while he cocks his head to the side and gives a little half shrug before hanging the wardrobe bag up on a hook and taking the seat next to her. 
> 
> “You’re late,” is how she greets him when he hands her one of the coffee cups and tries to hide her smile when she sees her ordered her a flat-white, her current go to coffee order. 
> 
> “Yeah, I know, I’m the worst. At least I got coffee?” he laughs a little when he sees her scrunch her nose up at him. 
> 
> “It’s okay. You’re not late when it matters I guess. Plus, it takes a lot more effort to get me looking camera ready,” Arya tells him as her makeup artist adds some highlighter to her cheek bones.
> 
> The look Podrick gives her can only be described as incredulous. 
> 
> “You might actually be the most fucking beautiful woman in all of Canada A, but try again,” he tells her with an air of confidence and ease that makes her entire face heat up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for how long it took me to update, have a 8k word chapter with some light smut at the end :)

**2016 Toronto CBC Studios  
  
** Arya stifles a yawn from where she sits in hair and makeup at the CBC studio.  
  
The last few weeks have gone by in a blur, between their all-night drive when Sansa went into labor, and then back to Montreal a few days later continue their pre-season work outs with Ellaria and Oberyn, her sleep has been restless at best, which made Pod hover a bit more than normal. She was sincerely thankful for all the hard work the B2Ten team was giving them, she just wished her lack of a good night’s rest wasn’t out there in black and white for everyone, Pod specifically, to see.   
  
Not that she could truly fault him, considering how much stress she’s put on their partnership with her health issues over the years, it was just that at times Podrick becomes a helicopter partner and it tends to drive her crazy.   
  
The door behind her opens to reveal an equally tired looking Podrick, carrying a wardrobe bag and a coffee carrier with two drinks in it. He gives her an apologetic look, his full brows creep their way up his forehead while he cocks his head to the side and gives a little half shrug before hanging the wardrobe bag up on a hook and taking the seat next to her.   
  
“You’re late,” is how she greets him when he hands her one of the coffee cups and tries to hide her smile when she sees her ordered her a flat-white, her current go to coffee order.   
  
“Yeah, I know, I’m the worst. At least I got coffee?” he laughs a little when he sees her scrunch her nose up at him.   
  
“It’s okay. You’re not late when it matters I guess. Plus, it takes a lot more effort to get me looking camera ready,” Arya tells him as her makeup artist adds some highlighter to her cheek bones.  
  
The look Podrick gives her can only be described as incredulous.   
  
“You might actually be the most fucking beautiful woman in all of Canada A, but try again,” he tells her with an air of confidence and ease that makes her entire face heat up.   
  
She’ll blame it on the coffee.   
  
“Oh hush,” is all she can manage to say before a PA comes knocking on the door and tells them their segment films in 15 minutes.   
  
Podrick lets out a low, steady breath that Arya knows is all nerves.  
  
“You ready for this? It’s not too late to back out you know, we can skip the segment and tell Ellaria and Oberyn we’re sorry but it’s too much pressure or whatever. There’s nothing stopping us from enjoying retirement in our 20’s,” she offers in a small voice, eyes trained directly to her reflection in the mirror in front of her.   
  
Podrick’s hand reaches across the space between their chairs and finds hers like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He tucks her small fingers into his warm hand and leans across his chair with his most charming smile.   
  
“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to kid. The only thing I’ve ever been completely certain about is that I would lace up those skates every day for the rest of my life for you. As long as you want to do this, I’m all in, okay?” he tells her with the utmost sincerity before he grazes a kiss over her knuckles.  
  
All she can do is nod in return, her heart is racing out of her chest and tears are pricking the corners of her eyes and her mouth is suddenly the Sahara desert. It’s moments like this where she has to fight the urge to grab him and kiss him, and it’s getting harder with every passing day.  
  
The makeup artist behind her looks utterly mortified to have witnessed such an intimate moment.   
  
If Pod notices the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room, he doesn’t acknowledge it, instead he gets up and grabs the wardrobe bag he brought in with him and exits the room, presumably to get changed.   
  
That’s when the makeup girl finally asks the question Arya is certain she’s been holding back since she walked into the room this morning.   
  
“I don’t want to pry, but the way you two act with each other… Well I mean, it’s very sweet and affectionate and honestly it’s the same way I act with my girlfriend, so what I guess I want to know is, are you two dating?”  
  
It's not something they have never been asked before, in fact in the hours of media training they have been prepping for over the last month the possibility of this question coming up was something Ellaria wanted them to be ready for. It doesn’t make being asked it for the first time in a while any less alarming.   
  
“That’s really sweet of you to say, but no, Podrick and I just skate together,” she answers almost mechanically, noticing the slight look of disappointment on the makeup girls face.   
  
“Oh well. You’d be a cute couple, just so you know. I think we’re finished up here, you look great. Good luck with your segment,” the platinum blonde with a killer pixie cut tells her as she starts cleaning up her space.  
  
“Thanks for making me look this good, I appreciate it,” Arya says as she grabs the red blazer she’s paired with her white blouse and black pencil skirt.   
  
Sansa said she looked very Canadian when she modeled the outfit last night at their penthouse, Sandor agreed absentmindedly as Eleyna gurgled happily in his arms. She was going for _classic and sophisticated_ but she could have done worse than Canadian, considering that they were announcing their comeback to competing for their country and all.   
  
Podrick is already getting set up with his mic as she enters the stage where the segment will be filmed, a black sweater she knows is cashmere since she bought it (okay, Sansa helped) layered over top a white button down, a pair of impeccably tailored black dress pants, and black dress shoes shined so well the stage lighting shines off of them. The entire look screams Oberyn, a little too polished for Pod’s typical taste and he looks vaguely uncomfortable in the ensemble.   
  
“Push the sleeves up and unbutton another button,” is all she says when she takes her spot next to him, a sound tech helping her clip her own mic on.  
  
“Huh?” he asks her in confusion.   
  
“I really appreciate that Oberyn helped you figure out what to wear, and it looks good, but you don’t really look like yourself. So, undo that button and push up the sleeves, you’ll do better on camera if your comfortable,” she tells him with grin as she adjusts her curls one last time before reaching over to help him with the buttons on his sleeves.   
  
Together it takes them about 30 seconds to adjust his outfit, and it makes a world of difference in his whole demeanor when it’s over though. Podrick looks much more relaxed than he has all morning by the time the PA brings them on set and gives them a run down of how they are filming their segment.   
  
As far as interviews go, it’s fairly painless. The two of them are genuinely excited to return to competitive skating, and Arya knows it shows in how they seamlessly answer the questions the host give them. The segment will air the following day, and by then she and Pod will be on a plane back to Montreal and ready to start planning out their seasons programs.   
  
 The idea is equally as thrilling as it is terrifying.   
  
**Montreal 2016 Gadbois  
**  
“Are you okay?” Podrick asks for probably the 300 th time today, just to receive a sigh from his partner as she sits down to stretch her legs out again.   
  
He knows he’s hovering; he can feel the tension radiating off Arya from her spot on the floor, and it would be much smarter to keep his mouth shut, but he can’t really help it. If he doesn’t ask, then he looks like an asshole who doesn’t care about his partner, if he does ask he looks like an asshole who doesn’t trust that his partner knows her limits.   
  
It’s a lose-lose situation, and the only thing that makes it better is the looks of pity that Oberyn and Ellaria keep throwing his way while Arya isn’t looking.   
  
“Let’s try that again,” Arya says after standing back up, eyes set with determination as Ellaria nods her head to the two of them and allows them to get back into the start position for the lift they plan on using in their short program this season.   
  
It’s a fairly simple lift, one they have done probably a thousand or so times in their career. When done properly, Podrick will plant Arya’s left skate as close to his hip as they can manage, stabilizing her with his knees bent and in a deep outside edge, while she uses their momentum to lift herself up and throw her right leg over the back of his head, just for him to hold her in place by her thighs while she arches back to create a clean visual before she leaps and spins herself into his arms, where he _will_ catch her.    
  
When _not_ done properly, Arya will kick him in the back of the head for the fifth time in 45 minutes, or Podrick will lose his balance before Arya even lifts her right foot off the ground, or their internal counting on the maneuver is out of synch and Arya leaps before Podrick is ready to catch her. While Arya technically didn’t land on the floor, he does have a career long record of never dropping her that has come way to close to being broken today, having nearly collided several times as he has scrambled to catch her.  
  
The last few times they have tried running this lift during land practice, Arya has tensed up as soon as Podrick goes to help plant her left foot, and he can feel how tight her legs feel underneath his hands when he helps her into the lift. It worries him, because despite all the wonderful treatments B2TEN has come up with, and how well their physical shape is being monitored these days, he will never be able to forget holding Arya on his bed in Vancouver as she sobbed about the amount of pain she was in.  
  
Arya has always been one of the strongest woman he’s known, physically and mentally, but the memories of her breaking down after their gold medal performance has always stuck with him, and its something his brain can’t escape when she struggles in practice.   
  
“Count with me this time, yeah?” Oberyn says from where he sits against the wall.  
  
Ellaria paces the length of the training room, observing silently with a legal pad in her hand, probably full of notes about how they were idiots to take on a team that’s such a mess.   
  
Oberyn counts them off once they are in their starting position, and as soon as Podrick feels Arya’s hand on the back of his neck, he knows she’s going to drop out of this lift before they hit the seven second mark and prepares himself to catch her early. Arya’s thighs are trembling underneath his hands and he’s certain she has a grimace on her face, if only by the look Ellaria wears on hers, and two full seconds before they hit their seven second mark Arya is dropping out of the lift.   
  
He’s there, of course, catches her with the reassuring _I got you_ he’s been whispering into her ear for years before she wretches herself from his grip like he’s burned her.   
  
It's not often Podrick finds himself angry at Arya. Annoyed sure, when you’ve worked with the same person for such a long time it’s hard to not get annoyed at each other, but angry is never really the word he would use to describe it. Something about her reaction just now flips a switch though, and his frustration with the day instantly boils over.   
  
“What the fuck A?” he says as he turns on her, hands thrown up in the air while his brows furrow themselves together tightly.   
  
His tone of voice is angry enough it makes Arya visibly flinch, clearly taken aback because in all their years of being partners, Podrick has maybe raised his voice with her three times ever.   
  
“Seriously Pod? I didn’t kick you this time, we didn’t collide, you didn’t drop me. Chill out okay, I dropped the lift early, that’s all. It’s land practice in April. We haven’t even picked out music yet, so don’t get worked up over nothing,” she says with a huff as she crosses her arms across her chest and levels him with a glare.   
  
“I _never_ drop you,” Podrick tells her, annoyance and anger still laced into his tone as he advances on her.   
  
Arya lifts her chin in defiance as he all but looms over top of her, a single eye brow raised in a challenge.  
  
“You just need to relax, I’ve got it under control.”  
  
“I’m _not_ going to relax. I can feel how tight your legs are every single time I hold on to them, I knew you were going to drop that lift the moment you put your hand on my neck for god’s sake. I can’t _chill out_ when there is clearly something going on with you that you’re not owning up to,” he tells her in a much calmer voice than before, anger already ebbing to concern.   
  
“I. Am. Fine. I’m just tired, and I forgot how hard it can be to run the same lifts over and over. My brain is there, my body just needs to catch back up. But I can’t deal with the constant hovering Podrick,” she tells him as he backs down and walks back over to stand by Oberyn, who has stayed suspiciously quiet during this little quarrel.   
  
“I’m not hovering,” he grumbles mostly to himself, but Arya has always had a keen sense of hearing and the frustrated noise that escapes her indicates she heard every word.  
  
“You are!” she explodes on him, “It’s been going on for weeks! Ever since we came back from Toronto after the baby was born, if I so much as wince you go into protective partner mode. I swear to god, I’ve heard _are you okay_ probably a hundred times a day at least, and it’s driving me crazy.”  
  
“I can’t _not_ ask if you’re okay kid. Our relationship doesn’t work that way.”  
  
“Then fucking believe me when I say I’m fine!” she yells at him exasperatedly before she turns her back on him with a swish of her pony tail and the stomp of her Nike’s.   
  
He clenches his jaw and breathes deeply through his nose, eyes narrowed and about to retort when Oberyn places a hand on his shoulder and gives him a nod as if to say _don’t do it man_ ; so instead he just groans, rests his head on wall behind him, and closes his eyes in defeat.  
  
It’s infuriating how much he wants to kiss her right now.  
  
“If you two are done with your spat, I’d love to tell you what I’ve been writing over here,” Ellaria pipes up from the back of the room where she holds her legal pad up triumphantly.   
  
“If it’s about how you regret taking us on, I don’t really want to hear it,” Podrick mutters loud enough for only Oberyn to hear, who actually laughs, much to his surprise.   
  
“No worries on that,” the older man says with a slap to the shoulder.   
  
Arya just glares at the two men before she returns her attention to Ellaria.   
  
“You were saying,” Arya says, and she is most definitely still upset at the previous conversation if the tightness in her voice indicates anything.   
  
“The ISU announced the requirements for the short dance a few days ago, as we’ve already discussed. Now, the music requirement is blues, with either swing or hip hop, and the required pattern dance sequence this season is Midnight Blues. So I’ve been doing a bit of thinking, and please feel free to object, but I know you two have gotten quite good at hip hop with all the touring, so I assume that would be your top choice of the genres you get to pick right?”  
  
Both Podrick and Arya nod in agreement, without even looking at one another to confer, because they had been doing their fair share of discussing since the announcement themselves. They knew it was different from anything they had really done before for a competition routine, and if they didn’t want to get over looked by the judges in their return, they both agreed that they needed to pull out all the stops in both the short and free dances.   
  
“What about a Prince medley? Start with _Kiss_ as your hip hop portion, transition into _5 Women_ for your Midnight Blues, and finish off with _Purple Rain_ for your twizzles and lift. It would be unexpected, not like something you’ve really done in the past for competitions, but it’s something you could pull off,” Ellaria says in her way of asking a question while really just telling them what they are going to do.   
  
“I think it’s a perfect way to show off your performance skills,” Oberyn offers from where he stands next to Podrick.   
  
“Just how long have you two been planning this?” he asks the older man before commenting further.  
  
“My love Ellaria came up with _5 Women_ for Midnight Blues as soon as it was announced. Not only is my wife gorgeous, she’s as smart as a whip that one. The rest of it has been brainstorming while listening to an endless amount of Prince the past few days,” Oberyn says with a lazy grin and a wink towards Ellaria, who just winks back.   
  
Arya hasn’t said anything yet, and with her back turned to him, Podrick is having a hard time gauging her reaction to the suggestion. He thinks it’s brilliant, that it will play to their hard-earned skills as being successful touring skaters, and that no one will expect that to be the route they choose to go for their come back season.   
  
“I’m all in if you are A,” he offers with a quiet voice, “it’s always been about you for me.”  
  
He notices her shoulders sag, but she doesn’t turn back to him, and instead tilts her head in that manner that signals to him she’s thinking of something clever to say.   
  
“I’m insisting on wearing a body suit for this one, it’s what the Purple One would have wanted,” she states after a few seconds of silence.   
  
Ellaria laughs, a bright happy thing that make her husband start to crack up too, which causes Podrick to start chuckling as well.   
  
“I wouldn’t have you in anything else,” Ellaria finally says after they all settle down.  
  
They spend the rest of their rehearsal time discussing the program Oberyn and Ellaria had started to plan for the short. Podrick and Arya had always excelled in their technical scores, which was now especially important since their training partners, Daenerys Targaryen and Daario Naharis from France, still struggled in getting their full GRE’s on the technical side. Ellaria and Oberyn knew this, of course, but they weren’t going to exploit it to help out Podrick and Arya by any means, since their jobs are get all their teams skating to their best potential.   
  
As stressful as it can be training with your biggest rivals, there is also something reassuring in being more aware of their short comings on a personal level instead of through shady dealings in the skating community.   
  
Dany and Daario were also very nice, if not a little stand offish at first, until they realized Arya spoke nearly flawless French as well. Now Podrick is convinced when the three of them start chatting in French, it’s because they have something to say about him, and he’s probably not wrong.   
  
“What about our free dance?” Arya asks as they are finishing up for the day.   
  
Ellaria and Oberyn exchange a glance that only causes him to worry about what the possible answer could be.   
  
“That’s up to you two. We’re open to anything you feel like you want to skate to,” Oberyn tells them as he holds open the door for the ladies.   
  
“In fact, consider this your homework tonight. Get together and discuss what you would want to skate to. If you come up with several ideas, write them down and we will hash them out tomorrow,” Ellaria tells them as she and Oberyn head off towards the offices.  
  
Podrick hates the look Ellaria had in her eyes as she left them in the lobby.   
  
Arya sighs and readjusts the strap on her gym bag, “Uh, how about I meet you at your place in 30 minutes?” she asks mostly to the floor.   
  
“My place?”  
  
“Yeah, you live closer to that Thai place I like and have the better couch,” she says by way of explanation as she pulls her car keys from the front zip of her bag.   
  
“I’ll order your normal for you then. I’ll uh, see you then,” he says with no small amount of awkwardness considering that Arya wont even look him in the eye right now.   
  
He really hopes they can get past whatever this is that is hanging between them right now.  
  
**2016 Montreal Podrick’s Apartment  
  
** Arya pulls her car into the second space in front of Podrick’s apartment just like everything is 100% normal between the two of them and they didn’t just have one their biggest, and dumbest, fights in years two hours ago.   
  
She was loath to admit that Pod as not completely wrong about how tight her legs had been during that lift, and that he had a good enough reason to be concerned. She had hidden the amount of pain she had been in pretty well in Vancouver, but ever since then Podrick was more in tune with her body than what was probably normal for someone who wasn’t a sexual partner, and typically that gave her a small thrill if she was being honest, but today it just annoyed her.   
  
Sometimes she just needed a partner, not a parent, and there was no easy way to tell Podrick he was smothering her.   
  
Checking her reflection once more in the mirror, she ran a hand through her hair to give it a good ruffle, the loose natural curls messier than normal thanks to the top knot she wore at practice today and adjusted the oversized grey sweater she had thrown overtop a lace bralette after deciding to change out of her practice clothes. Cute and casual, the perfect outfit for hanging out with a friend at their apartment and eating Thai food while planning the free dance portion of their return to competitive ice dancing, at least that’s what she told herself as she walked up the stairs to Podrick’s apartment.   
  
She didn’t even have a chance to knock on the door before it swung open, revealing Pod in a Team Canada t-shirt that was probably from a few years ago, considering the way it stretched across his chest and shoulders like a second skin. Somehow, he had inexplicably bulked up since Sochi, suddenly looking more like a man and less like the scrawny boy she had started skating with years ago, and she wasn’t complaining about it.   
  
“I ordered your green curry and some tom yum soup,” he says as he ushers her into his small apartment and helps her out of her coat before placing it on the empty hook next to where his coat is.   
  
“And your basic bitch peanut stir fry with beef?” she asks with a smirk as he just rolls his eyes.   
  
“Ha ha ha. Not everyone enjoys burning their taste buds off like you do A,” Podrick says as he places a hand on the small of her back and directs her his couch, a pile of actual CD’s on the coffee table and two thick legal pads with several pens scattered around the surface.   
  
“So, I’m guessing you have some ideas already formed?”  
  
“Eh, I mean, kinda I guess? I’ve sorta kept a running list of songs I’d like to skate to for years now, and most of them were exhibition only choices since we weren’t ever allowed songs with lyrics, but now that that rule has been thrown out the window, I figured it was time to pull these bad boys out,” he says as he gestures to the notebooks, his cheeks flaring bright red.  
  
“Well, I guess it really depends on what style of routine we want to do yeah? We’ve always found success with the lyrical types of routines, with elegance and softness and romance,” she says as she settles into the corner of the couch and tucks her feet up underneath herself.    
  
Randomly she picks a cd from the pile and realizes it’s the Moulin Rouge soundtrack and is taken back to 2001 and the time she and Sansa dragged him to the cinema to see this film. In all their years of skating together, attending movies wasn’t something they did all that often together, since most of their teen years were taken up by school work and training. Moulin Rouge was one of the few film going experiences they had together actually, and it was still a favorite of both of theirs after all these years.   
  
“I think we need to pick something that is going to showcase our abilities as skaters. Our technique, speed and precision is what sets us apart from all the other top teams in our sport, and we need to utilize those skills to propel us to the top,” Podrick says from the spot he’s taken on the floor in front of her, legal pad in hand as he flips through page after page of routine concepts.   
  
“You sound like a coach.”  
  
“Yeah well, I got to do something after we retire again right? This is just about the only thing I’m good at, so might as well make a career out of it,” he says with a self-deprecating shrug.   
  
She’s about to chastise him when the doorbell rings, signaling their take away being delivered. Her stomach rumbles on cue after Pod pays the delivery guy and sets the bags of Thai food on his small dining table. As with all things, they prove they have the uncanny ability to work as a cohesive unit; Podrick grabs plates and bowls and bottles of coconut water from the fridge while Arya finds silverware and napkins and starts opening the various cartons of mouth watering food that Podrick ordered.   
  
“Seriously, there is enough food here for a small army,” she teases as she fills her bowl with rice and green curry.   
  
“Probably, but you eat like a small army sometimes, so I figured I’d be prepared,” he teases back, earning himself a whack on the shoulder for his troubles.   
  
They both make quick work of their meals in companionable silence, the tension from earlier easing itself out of the room finally. Arya hates fighting with Podrick, it’s not something that happens all that often, so when it does happen she’s left feeling pretty crummy in general for days after until they have properly made up. She promises herself that she won’t leave tonight without attempting to make things good between them again.   
  
After their meals are finished Podrick all but drags Arya back to his couch so they can actually get to work on their homework from Ellaria and Oberyn. The Moulin Rouge OST still sits on top of the CD pile, and Arya can’t help but ask him about it.   
  
“Well, I think it would make a great free dance, but I don’t think it’s right for us this season. It would be something nice to go out on though, so why don’t we revisit this in a year? Stark and Payne’s grand finale.”   
  
The rest of the CD’s are not that much of a help, most of them being classical tracks they had would have picked years ago with Mel, and not reflective on who they were now as a team or even as who they were as people anymore. There are some winners in there, but when they get down to it nothing that screams out to them as _this is it this is the one this is your comeback free dance!  
  
_ She laughs at his half-hearted attempt to convince her they need to skate to a Star Wars medley that includes _Duel of the Fates,_ something she is certain has been on his desired list of potential free skate songs ever since the prequels came out, because Podrick might be able to charm the pants off of all of Canada, but he’s still a giant nerd deep down.   
  
“Think of it A, Padme wears some iconic outfits, so does Leia. And I know you appreciated how bad ass Rey was in the new one. It’s would be phenomenal,” he tells her in between laughs as Arya just bites back a smile at his sincerity over this whole crazy idea.   
  
“If we can’t find anything better, we can revisit this one I suppose,” she says half-heartedly as she exhausts another page in the notebook she’s looking in and flips the page over.     
  
After a while Arya digs out her iPhone and pulls up Apple Music to scroll through the playlists she has made over the last few years; many of them are filled with songs she’s always wanted to skate to, much like the pages of Pod’s notebooks, while some of them are just songs that make her think of Pod, which isn’t a piece of information she’s willing to give up right now.   
  
One of these such songs is _Latch_ by Disclosure featuring Sam Smith, and the lyrics basically could have been a journal entry of her feelings for her partner, you know, if Arya did something like keeping a journal that is. It was far to intimate of a song to even suggest, but she presses play on it anyway since she likes the song and continues to search through her playlists as the music drifts across Podrick’s living room.   
  
“What are you listening to?” he asks from where he still sits in front of her, his body turned around fully to face her on the couch.   
  
“Oh uh, it’s not a suggestion or anything, it’s just something I like is all,” she answers with a shrug while her eyes are still glued onto the screen in front of her.   
  
“Well whatever it is, I think it’s great. We could really work with this. It definitely fits the lyrical, romantic theme we talked about earlier,” Podrick says as he drags himself up onto the couch next to her, voice low as he listens to music coming from her phone.   
  
She’s suddenly very flushed and she mentally insists it has nothing to do with his close proximity to her right now.   
  
“We’d have to find something to go with it, it’s not long enough for a full routine, but Ellaria and Oberyn might have an idea,” she offers as Podrick just nods in agreement.   
  
The last few chords of music play out in silence between the two of them, the lyrics and music hanging in the air as they both finally look up and catch the others eye. Something passes between the two of them that feels like a monumental shift in their relationship, and she feels woefully unprepared for whatever could happen next.  
  
“Look, about today at rehearsal. I’m sorry. You’re right, I should trust you when you say you’re fine, you’re a grown up and you don’t need me to baby you,” Podrick offers as he wraps his larger hand around one of her smaller ones.   
  
“Thank you, but really it’s okay. I know that my health stresses you out, so I get it,” she replies back as she rubs the top of his hand with her thumb.   
  
The look Podrick gives her isn’t exactly the one she was expecting, his brows furrowing deeply as he pulls back a little from her.   
  
“Actually A, I don’t think you really do get it. Do you know how many sleepless nights I’ve had over your health issues? How many times I’ve thought I would be retiring because I couldn’t bear the thought of skating without you, no matter how many times Mel tried to get me to find someone else, or any number of people suggested the same? You really underestimate how much I’ve constantly worried about you over the years,” he says in the same scathing tone he used with her earlier today.  
  
“You’re not being fair Podrick,” she starts, “because I’m the one that has been told multiple times I shouldn’t be skating at all. I’m the one that has been told over and over again that I shouldn’t be doing the thing I love most because it’s literally destroying my body. You say you wouldn’t have continued without me, but that would have been such a waste of your talents and you would have missed it too much, that I have such a hard time believing that.”  
  
Arya finds herself turning her body to face Podrick more fully, and she bites her lip to hold back the tears that gather in the corner of her eyes.   
  
“Do you really not understand what I mean when I say it’s always been about you? Every career decision I’ve ever made has been for _your_ benefit kid. I wake up every day being grateful it’s another day I get to spend on the ice with you.”  
  
Unlike earlier, he’s not yelling, not really. His voice is low, and she can feel the hurt that is woven into every word he says, almost like he’s in physical pain at telling her these things. It doesn’t change the fact that she’s unexplainably angry with him right now.   
  
“But no one asked you to do that Pod! I never asked you to base all your choices on what was best for me!”  
  
She’s crowed into his personal space, watches the storm as it brews in his dark brown eyes. She is not quite yelling either, but her voice is raised none the less.  
  
“Who else would I have skated with? Who else would I have wanted to spend the last few years with? There’s no one else for me but you A. Period, point blank, you’re it,” he says as his chest heaves and his eyes search hers as if she holds all the answers.  
  
He just needs a push, needs her to lead him for once in their lives.    
  
“What do you want Pod?” she says, voice nearly at a whisper.   
  
He leans across the space between them and presses his lips so softly to hers she can barely feel them, a lingering kiss that makes her heart nearly beat out of her chest and she practically whines when he pulls away.   
  
“I… what… oh my god,” she murmurs under her breath as Podrick just sits shell shocked across from her, his eyebrows knitted together so tightly they seem to be fighting with themselves.   
  
Whatever his internal conflict is, he gets over it pretty quickly, because he catches her eye again and she just gives him a genuine smile that seems to spur him into action.  
  
“Oh, fuck it,” he mutters before he reaches for her again and drags her bodily to him, one hand cups her chin while the other threads into her hair.   
  
She doesn’t have time to think, only to react, when their lips meet again. Podrick is everywhere, over taking her senses and she feels like she could drown in him if that was possible, as she pulls herself flush to him and cards her finger through his hair.   
  
“God Arya,” he nearly moans as she pulls his lower lip in between her teeth and wraps her legs around his waist as she nestles into his lap. She can feel the hard length of him already bumping against her thigh, and it takes every bit of her self-control to not grind herself down on him and to focus solely on his mouth.   
  
Podrick’s tongue sweeps against the inside of her mouth, as soft caress before he pulls away and his lips press feverishly against her jaw and down the column of her throat.  
  
“I’ve wanted this for too long,” he mumbles against her clavicle before setting his teeth to nip at the hollow of her throat.   
  
“Me too,” she gasps.  
  
Her insides are like molten fire deep in her belly, and she can no longer keep herself from squirming there in his lap as she claws at his shoulders and tugs on his hair. She’s been wanting this just as long, maybe longer even, but her brain has gone fuzzy and she can barely even think about anything other than how great his mouth feels on her.   
  
Podrick lets out a deep groan when she _finally_ cants her hips into his, his clever fingers having pushed the collar of her sweater over, so his lips can continue their mission of tracing every available piece of her skin and exploring her shoulder. The pain from where they greedily sink into her flesh is quickly replaced with the soothing heat of his tongue and a warm chuckle at the noise that slips out of her lips at the contact.   
  
She doesn’t think twice of reaching down and whipping the sweater over her head before she throws it across the living room, suddenly she’s burning up with an urgent sense of _need_ and _want_ that she’s certain Pod will be more than happy to fulfill.   
  
“Holy shit Arya,” he says softly, almost reverently, as his hands skim down her arms and back up her torso, his fingers edge across the lace band of her bra.   
  
She feels herself flush a deep red at his tone and can’t even bare to look him in the eye, afraid to see what could possibly radiating back at her.   
  
“You’ve seen me in a sports bra, and a bikini, this is no different,” she insists with a sigh as she attempts to cross her arms over her chest. He gently pulls her arms apart as his eyes thoroughly take in every inch of her.   
  
“This is very different,” Podrick says as he presses a soft kiss to her shoulder, “for starters you’ve never been half naked in my living room.”   
  
She can feel him smiling into her skin as he runs his hands up and down her ribcage, his fingers just brushing the underside of her flimsy bra, but never quite coming in contact with her breasts. He’s treating her as if she’s made of glass, some fragile thing that is easily broken, and there is such a tenderness there she has to swallow the lump that’s building in her throat just to keep herself from tearing up again tonight.   
  
“You’re so fucking gorgeous. How are you even a real person?” he says as his lips find the place between her neck and shoulder that makes her moan low in the back of her throat.   
  
Her nails are most certainly leaving crescent shapes across his back where she grips tighter at him, digging in to find purchase as his mouth moves to give attention to the modest amount of cleavage this bra gives her. She feels her eyes roll back into her head when he finally, _finally_ cups her right breast, the warmth of his hand seeps through the barely-there-lace that separates then from skin to skin contact.   
  
“Bedroom, please,” she pants as his mouth sucks a red bloom on the gentle swell of her left breast, and Pod nods eagerly as he wraps one arm under her thighs and another around her back and hauls her up with him off the couch.   
  
She takes this time to get herself acquainted with the skin on his neck and is a little more than perturbed that she didn’t manage to get his shirt off him before they made their way to his bedroom.   
  
It should be weird, she’s been back here several times since they moved to Montreal, and they are who they are, but more than anything she feels like this is right, like there’s nothing she would rather be doing right now than getting naked between these sheets with Podrick.   
  
He sets her down on the end of the bed with a gentleness she has come to associate with him over their years as partners, and immediately pulls his t-shirt over the back of his head before he captures her lips in a searing kiss once more.   
  
“What do you want?” Podrick whispers into her ear as his hands snake back to unfasten her bra and slides the straps down her arms with a practiced ease that should be intimidating but instead only makes her squirm and squeeze her thighs together even tighter.   
  
“Anything, everything,” she half moans, half chokes out when plucks a nipple with one hand while his mouth fastens on to the other.   
  
He literally might kill her before they even have a chance to get any further, the dark look he casts her from under his lashes as he looks up from the spot where he’s kneeling at the end of the bed does nothing but kick her arousal into over drive.    
  
Podrick laps and laves at one breast before switching to the other, her nipples red, wet and hard at the attention they are receiving from the man who seems to be enjoying himself so much, if the noises he’s also making indicates anything. Arya is entirely certain she has forgotten how to breathe on several occasions and sees clearly the mess she has made of his back with her nearly frantic clawing at it.   
  
It takes all her strength to pull at his hair and drag his mouth back to hers, their lips meeting in a messy kiss that has Pod up and off his knees and pressing her back into his mattress, his fingers at the waistband of her leggings as hers are tugging on band of his athletic shorts.   
  
“Are you sure about this?” he breathes into her as she helps him shimmy out of her leggings and panties, his fingers grazing across her mound and her hips reflexively jumping at contact.   
  
“Absolutely Pod, more than anything,” she tells him as he pulls back to look into her eyes.   
  
The sound she lets out is a cross between a sob and a sigh when he finally touches her between her thighs. Her core is actually throbbing as his fingers rub against her for the first time, she doesn’t think she’s ever been this wet in her life and she’s wound so tight from years of sexual frustration in regard to Pod, she knows it’s not going to take much for her to come.   
  
“You’re almost there, aren’t you?” he can’t help but tease as her hips thrust hard as he inserts a finger in her.   
  
“Shut up and make me come Pod,” she whines against his lips as he laughs and kisses and fucks her with his fingers.   
  
One quickly turns into two, and then his thumb is finding her clit and honestly, it’s all over before it even really has a chance to begin. Arya shudders a gasping breathe before crying out at the electric current running through her body that curls her toes and makes her back arch off the mattress below her. Podrick is there through all of it, he presses kisses onto every bare inch of skin he can find as he murmurs to her how beautiful she is and how lucky he is to see her this way and how he wants to get to do this again and again forever.   
  
She wants that too.   
  
Podrick presses a quick kiss against her mouth as he pulls himself away from her and leans over the side of the bed and pulls open his nightstand drawer.   
  
“Shit,” she hears him whisper to himself as he rolls completely off the bed, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs that give her a great view of his ass, and gives her the sign for just a moment as he walks into the adjacent bath.   
  
A full four minutes later, Podrick emerges back from his bathroom looking completely mortified.   
  
“What’s wrong?” Arya asks from her spot on his bed, now tucked under the covers to keep warm.   
  
“I don’t have any condoms. I had some back home, I intended to pack them, but I can’t find them at all,” he says as he flops himself backwards on to his bed, his arms coming across to hide the bright red flush that’s creeping down his body.   
  
“Oh,” is all she can really think to say.   
  
She’s clean, she’s 100% certain Podrick is clean, and she’s been on birth control for years to help with acne, but something about the way Pod seems so annoyed at himself over this tells her that he wouldn’t want to have sex without a condom anyway, and she can respect that, she actually loves him a little more for that very reason.   
  
“We don’t have to have sex Pod, it’s fine, really I promise,” she tells him as he lets out a frustrated whine.   
  
“I didn’t pack them because we agreed this was about us and our skating and that we didn’t need any outside distractions. I willingly agreed to being celibate for two years for this return to competition, and never once did it cross my mind that the only person I’ve wanted to sleep with for years would be the one person I could sleep with during this. I’m so fucking stupid,” he groans as he flips over on to his stomach and looks up at her with the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes she has ever seen on him.   
  
“Well maybe we can’t _sleep_ together right now, but we can definitely sleep together. Come here, give me my underwear and a shirt and get your ass over here,” she suggests with a grin as she holds open the blankets for him to join her under.   
  
They spend the next few minutes getting situated, Podrick runs back out to the living room to grab their phones and makes sure he sets the alarm with enough time that they can both complete their morning routines when before rehearsal before he crawls under the sheets and pulls Arya into his chest.   
  
“So, uh, what are we now, after all of this?” he asks sleepily as he brushes his fingers through her hair.   
  
“I don’t know. Partners, always partners, and maybe something more than that too. We don’t have to figure that out tonight though Pod,” she says through a yawn as she burrows herself deeper into his chest.   
  
“Yeah, okay, alright. We can talk about it later,” he agrees as he presses one last kiss to her lips and rests his cheek against her forehead.   
  
“G’night Pod,” Arya half mumbles as her eyes flutters shut.   
  
When she wakes up the next morning she isn’t sure if she only dreamed him telling her he loved her as she went to sleep or not, but when she see’s how peaceful Podrick is next to her she realizes she doesn’t really want to know the answer to that, because she’s more certain than ever that she’s in love with him and couldn’t handle the heartbreak of him not feeling the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've mentioned in the comments that it's gonna be a while until they actually have sex, and that's still the plan y'all. We'll definitely see some more affection from them, and maybe some sexual activities but the timing for some down and dirty bang training isn't going to be for a bit still for these two. 
> 
> Thank you to anyone who is still reading this! Please tell me what you think in the comments! 
> 
> I'm over on tumblr at bex-xo if you want to follow me :)


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